Post Secret
by N1NJ4
Summary: More than kisses, letters mingle souls. Slight AU. Alex never named Piper. I own nothing: characters belong to Jenji Kohan and Piper Kerman.
1. Stupid Stupid, Stupid

_Greetings Alex Vause,_

_How are you doing? I am sure you are curious as to who is writing you. To my friends, I am known as L.I.W. Most days I enjoy jogging, watching television, reading a good book, and staying busy with work. I must admit, occasionally I will swap my morning run in exchange for a few extra hours of sleep. I am getting better though!_

Piper ran her hand through her long blonde hair. This was more challenging than she initially thought.

_I found your name among others who had consented to be placed in a pen pal program. It is a great program and helps the time to pass while you are away. Personally, I am glad that you decided to participate because I get the opportunity to get to know you better._

She reread what she had written so far. The whole thing just screamed "fake" to her. Mr. Crowe, Alex's lawyer, had told Piper about the Pen Pal Program a few weeks back. He had been present as Alex signed the papers in the courthouse, among which the program's consent form appeared, though he got the impression the woman cared little about what she was signing. What they don't tell the prisoners is how long the waitlist for a pen pal actually is. The fact that an inmate would wait an entire year just to get a letter from a total stranger so she would have someone to write to was just depressing.

_Without further ado, let's get to know each other a little better. I'll ask some simple questions and you can choose as few or as many as you feel comfortable answering._

_How have you been?_  
_What is your favorite color?_  
_What type of music do you enjoy?_  
_Do you have any hobbies?_  
_What do you do for fun?_  
_Cats or dogs?_  
_Coffee or tea?_  
_Do you read? If so, what genre do you prefer?_  
_Do you have a favorite book?_  
_What is your favorite movie?_  
_Who is your favorite actress and actor?_  
_Do you have a favorite food dish?_

_Thanks again for joining the program and giving me the opportunity to get to know you. I hope all is well on your end._

_Sincerely,_

_L.I.W.  
P.O. Box 54781_  
_Brooklyn, New York 11203_

Picking up the half empty bottle, Piper downed the rest of her Shock Top. The entire letter sounded stupid. It was a stupid idea. She was stupid. Especially because her Smith College bachelor's degree in creative writing apparently didn't help her come up with a more descriptive word besides simply "stupid."

With a sudden jolt, Piper grabbed the thin white envelope resting on the edge of the desk. She wasn't going to chicken out. Not now. A single letter could completely and irrevocably alter someone's future. It could unhinge the life you were accustomed to and rain down the fragments over your head. Wetting the adhesive, she couldn't help but remember that one thick off-white envelope. If she had tossed it away with the rest of the spam mail, where would she be now?

**"Piper? I'm home!" Larry tossed his coat in the closet and met Piper in a hug.**

**"Did you have fun with Cal? Fill up his weekly quota for human contact?" Piper kissed her boyfriend on the cheek.**

**"Yeah. Man of few words, he is. Here," Larry chucked a stack of letters and magazines on the kitchen counter. "Grabbed the mail on the way up. Some of that might make good fire kindling actually. Think we should save it for your brother?"**

**The blonde lightly punched his shoulder. "I'm sure there's plenty of kindling in the forest. No need to cart our spam mail into the middle of nowhere just to burn it."**

**"Hmm, yeah." Larry pulled Piper in for a kiss. "I'm starving, want to order out?"**

**"Sure babe, how does Chinese sound?" Piper slid her arms around Larry's neck. The two remained lip-locked for a few moments. That is, until Larry's stomach let out a loud grumbling noise.**

**"I could practically eat a boiled shoe right now. Dining from Cal's organic garden is great but I feel like I'm eating rabbit food. And it is just about as filling." Larry broke away from Piper's embrace and went to retrieve the phone. "The Palace sound good?"**

**"Sure dear," Piper responded absently, shifting through the junk mail. Verizon bill, junk, junk, credit card bill, magazine, Crowe and Associates Law Firm? Random. Did they know someone that worked there or was the company just fishing for clients? Maybe she should just toss it. "Hey what is the name of the firm your dad works for again?"**

**"Saiber LLC, why?" Larry looked over from the kitchen. "Yes, large order of broccoli beef, cashew chicken, sticky rice..." He walked away, rattling off their usual order.**

**The envelope felt heavy in Piper's hands. She carefully opened the letter and read through the first few lines, half expecting it to be full of advertisements and coupons for discounted lawyer services. Instead, what she read shocked her enough to involuntarily relax her hold on the cream colored pages, allowing them to tumble to the floor.**

**_Dear Ms. Piper Chapman,_**

**_I am writing to ask whether it would be possible for you to provide a letter of reference for my client, Ms. Alex Vause._**

**_She is currently on trial at the US District Court for the Southern District of New York for narcotic smuggling and money laundering. If you, and others that know Ms. Vause, were able to attest to her character there is a chance..._**

**The words were blurring together; Piper's hand was shaking so violently that the paper was giving off a crinkling noise as it batted the air.**

**"Hey Pipes, want to walk with me to pick up the food? I could use the leg stretch after that long car ride." Larry called from the kitchen. "We can take a cab on the way back so the food doesn't get cold."**

**Piper didn't respond. She stared at her hand like she had just sprouted a second thumb before her very eyes. Snapping from her reverie she grabbed the papers and shoved them in her purse before meeting Larry at the front door. One line kept repeating over and over in her head: ****_my client, Alex Vause._**

**_Alex._**

* * *

Author's Note: Giving this a shot. Let me know if you want me to continue. Please review.


	2. Rebuttal

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/Italics are emphasis/letters/internal thoughts  
/Polly isn't pregnant currently

* * *

It had been weeks. Nearly a month passed before anything arrived in the post office box she had purchased. After the first week she started to drop by every day. Piper had begun to believe that she must have done something wrong. Maybe the address was illegible or it got lost somewhere along the way. Things like that happened, right? Or possibly Alex recognized her handwriting and threw her weak attempt at a letter away. It might be a better idea to type the next one, even though it was much more impersonal. Distant. But perhaps that was a good idea, keeping distance from this whole.. _thing_. Whatever it was. Because what was she doing? To be perfectly honest, what the hell was she doing contacting this person she had buried in her past?

She was antsy. Distracted. It was plain as day that something was happening in the life of Piper Chapman and who better than to pick up on it day one besides Polly Harper. Her ever observant, ever chatty, ever nosey business partner Polly Harper: Piper's best friend since grade school.

"Piper!" Polly's voice rang through the air, cascading into her ears and snapping her back into reality. A reality where she was two seconds from colliding with an office building's glass door.

Polly yanked on her elbow, deflecting the near-mortifying collision. "Jesus Pipes, what the heck is the matter with you?"

"Ju-just tired Pol." Piper attempted to reassure her friend while adrenaline raced through her own veins. Tiredness was okay before an important sales pitch; distraction was not.

"Really. Tired people are more alert to their surroundings than you are. I bet you haven't heard a single word I've said over the last five minutes." Polly looked at her expectantly.

"Sure I have." Piper straightened her Tory Burch jacket. Polly was right, she hadn't heard a damn thing that came out of the woman's mouth but she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of unsuccessfully guessing. Piper went to reach for the still intact door but Polly held it shut.

"And should I take your silence as you have no opinion?" Piper shrugged and crossed her arms, waiting for her friend to open the door. "You, Piper Chapman, _always_ have an opinion so don't give me that shrug. I was going over which points we were each going to cover. We both know I am better talking about the ingredients and production process. Are you comfortable with talking about the projected profit margins and last years financial reports?"

Piper absently traced the pocket on her jacket, staring somewhere just above Polly's tailored shoulder. "Yes. I believe we discussed this last night and I agreed. I know my part Polly. We've got this. Once they realize what a great product we have we can go for drinks, alright?"

Sidestepping, Polly lined her gaze up with Piper's wandering one, dropping her tone of voice, "Seriously Pipes, what's going on with you? You've got this far-away look in your eye and you have been spacing out practically every two seconds since I talked to you last night. Is something going on with you and Larry? Did you guys finally have a fight or something?"

She was blushing. Piper could feel the heat from her cheeks and knew Polly could see the flare of color. Whether it was from embarrassment or shame, Piper didn't know. She should be thinking about Larry and his new job. But she wasn't. And she hadn't. She pressed her hand flat against the pocket and the small note inside. Her cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. "No, nothing like that. Later Pol, we've got to focus on getting this deal. This could be huge, bigger than Barney's." Piper cast her wide, excited eyes on her friend. She knew she wasn't fooling Polly, but she also saw the gigantic clock hanging inside on the wall behind the front desk. Being late was never a good way to start off a business deal.

Polly glanced at her watch and back to Piper. "Nice try. I will get it out of you. Now Let's go show these Bloomingdale executives how organic, environmentally friendly, and a perfect addition to their inventory our _Popey_ soaps and lotions will be!"

**"I think I'm burning the sandwiches! Piper get in here!" Larry hollered from the kitchen.**

**"Be there in a second!" Piper called from the office. Turning her attention back to her letter, she went over her response. It screamed cautious, but who could blame her? She wasn't one to take risks. Not anymore. She was the nice WASPy blonde lady she was supposed to grow up to be.**

_**Mr. Crowe,**_

_**I'm sorry but where did you get my contact information? I have not had any contact with your client for over five years. I do not believe that any information I provide about your client will have enough impact to decrease her sentence. In addition, I do not know if she is the same person as the one I had known. Time changes people. I think it might be best to look to her current group of friends, as their stories about your client might be more accurate.**_

_**I am sorry I could not be of much assistance.**_

_**Sincerely,  
Piper Chapman**_

**Printing the paper and tucking it into her purse, Piper all but ran to the kitchen. It was smoky and she smelled something burning as she entered. Somehow Larry had managed to burn their Paninis'. Really? Thought Piper. How is it even possible to burn a Panini?**

"Three.. two.. one!" Piper tossed her head back, 1800 burning a trail of fire down the back of her throat. Polly followed suit with her shot of Red Berry Ciroc. They both gasped and bit into a lime. Neither could handle their drinks without a chaser, at least not before the third round.

"So." Polly turned on her best friend. Their earlier conversation hadn't been forgotten, just put on hold while they schmoozed the higher ups of Bloomingdales. The meeting had gone relatively smoothly. Despite Polly's fear, both her and Piper had thoroughly memorized their parts and impressed the panel with their samples and slideshows. They were going to be on the shelves for the coming fall season with a full line of holiday fragrances making their debut.

"Are you going to explain what is going on with you? You don't have an excuse now and you know how great I am at digging out gossip." Piper slid her narrowed eyes over to her friend.

"So that's what this is about?" Polly smiled brightly and waved for another round from the bartender. Perhaps another shot would loosen those painted lips.

"Pipes you know I am only trying to be there for my best friend." Polly batted her eyelashes at Piper, handing her another drink.

"Oh really? Not just butting your nose into my business in true Harper fashion?" They clinked their glasses and choked down the contents.

Polly slammed her glass down with verve. "Piper. Spill."

She was going to tell her anyway. Either by means of her world famous "foot in mouth disease" or Polly getting her sloshed enough to talk. Why delay the inevitable?

"I got a letter." Piper stared hard at the polish wood counter, avoiding the imploring look she just knew Polly was aiming at her.

"Okay. From who?" Polly was nowhere near satisfied with that answer.

Piper cringed. "A lawyer."

"I _will_ pull this out of you piece by terse piece Pipes. Are you being sued or something?" Polly was determined to get to the bottom of what was troubling her friend.

"No Pol, nothing like that. I think I need another." Piper ordered a double round, foregoing the lime chaser this time around. Her mind was thick with haze and the words came easier to her relaxed lips.

"I received a letter from a lawyer asking me to compose a character reference testimony for his client." She was drawing this out and she knew it, but she didn't necessarily want to tell Polly. Alex and Polly hadn't been the best of friends.

"Okay, I still don't get why this is bothering you. Did you not like the person? Who is it for?" She nursed her double of Ciroc, not as keen on getting intoxicated now that Piper was opening up.

Barely above a whisper, Piper disclosed, "His client is Alex." She met Polly's eyes. She could see confusion replaced by recognition flash across her features.

"Supercunt?!"

"Yea, but don't call her that. You know I hate that nickname." She was suddenly overheating, her skin flushed. She needed air. Tossing a few bills on the counter she shuffled her way out to the cool night air and leaned against the brick face of the building. Polly wasn't far behind.

"You did it, didn't you?" Polly was accusing her but it wasn't like she had done anything _wrong_.

"I didn't want to. I said no at first." Piper looked up at the sky, searching for answers among the smog-dimmed stars.

"But you did." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. Polly's hand was gripping her shoulder, keeping her grounded.

"Yea, I did." She let out on a sigh.

* * *

Author's Note: Let me know if I should continue. Please review.


	3. Who Are You

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/Italics are emphasis/letters/internal thoughts

* * *

"So, did it work?" Polly shook her shoulder, regaining Piper's attention.

"Yes. Well, I think so. The lawyer was thrilled." She knew what was coming next.

"And Alex?" Polly said her name like it was a curse.

"I don't know Pol." Because truly, she didn't.

It could have been the uncertainty. Or the tequila. Even just the nerves that she was feeling all day from the business meeting. Piper clutched her stomach. "Polly I need to go." She could practically feel the tequila retracing its recent path.

"You always have been a lightweight. Come on Pipes, let's get you home." Polly was a good friend. Even if she disapproved of something Piper had done, she was there to take care of her. She was really her true best friend.

* * *

**_L.I.W. - _**

**_Who are you?  
_**

_..Who am I? I'm the pretty blonde that left you when your mother died.  
The girl you took travelling around the world almost a decade ago.  
The one you probably don't even remember anymore.  
I'm Piper, Alex.  
It's me.  
Piper Chapman._

Piper woke with a start, not remembering how she had ended up in her bed. Larry was breathing slow and deep beside her. Her iPhone was blinking a message on her nightstand. Reaching over, she grabbed the device and opened the message from Polly.

"When you can remain vertical give me a call. We'll get lunch." Piper groaned and flopped onto her back, disrupting the slumbering man next to her.

"Morning Pipes." Larry blinked at her, wiping the crusties from his eyes. "Sleep well? You were pretty drunk when Polly brought you home. Did the meeting go okay?"

"We closed the deal." Piper pinched the bridge of her nose. "I definitely drank too much last night. Remind me not to drink with Polly again."

"I'll make sure to bring that up next time you want to go out. BUT, if you unleash those puppy dog eyes, it's game over." Larry shifted his arm around Piper. "Sleep a bit more. It's the weekend and I know you're not ready to deal with the imminent headache yet. We'll take it easy, order pizza or something later." Piper could tell he was starting to nod off, slurring the last sentence slightly.

"Polly is expecting me for lunch." To be honest she didn't want to think of food quite yet. Most of her body's efforts were currently being spent filtering out the alcohol in her system, not adding more contents to the mix.

Larry opened an eye and peered at her face. "Is this one of those times I am supposed to stop you from going out? It's been what, ten seconds?"

"You really think I would drink this early in the day? I can't even think of alcohol after last night!" Piper turned to face her boyfriend who was looking at her incredulously.

"But you just said –"

"I know what I just said!" Piper sat up and felt her head spin, fluttering her eyelids. "Great, my boyfriend thinks I'm an alcoholic." She heaved herself onto her feet and into the bathroom. A therapeutic shower would do wonders for her mood.. and her hangover.

* * *

_Greetings Alex Vause,_

_It is great to hear back from you. As per your inquiry, I am a potential friend. Someone to keep in touch with in the outside world. I am a means to pass the time, or I can be, if you'd allow me. I can fill you in on what's happening or just discuss neutral topics. Personally, I would like to get to know you better. _

_How have the past few weeks been? How is the food there? I hope all is well on your end._

_Sincerely,_

_L.I.W._  
_P.O. Box 54781_  
_Brooklyn, New York 11203_

The writing for this one was entirely different. She had practiced writing with her left hand and it ended up legible enough to pass. She refused to type out her letters. She didn't want Alex to possibly recognize her handwriting but she wouldn't resort to using a computer. It had been a tough decision. She wanted the woman to know that someone out there was taking the time to write her a handwritten letter, not just something they could have easily put together in a minute on cheap printer paper and mailed off. She knew Alex would appreciate it over a typed message, even if she didn't know who it was that was writing her. Even if she didn't trust her.

* * *

Piper took a seat in the booth across from her friend. "You look just as bad as you sounded on the phone."

"Thanks Pol. Good afternoon to you too." Piper pushed her heavy sunglasses onto her head now that she was indoors. "Why Montana's? I thought you didn't like their food?"

"My only complaint was that their dishes were too bready. After last night I think we both need the carbs to soak up the alcohol." She couldn't really disagree; she could still feel her bad decisions pulsing against her temples.

The waitress came and took their orders, both women draining their ice waters. "So." Polly rested her hand under her chin, staring pointedly at Piper. "How did this lawyer sweet talk you into writing the reference?"

Leave it to Polly not to mention her disapproval. Instead, she let it drip from her every word.

Piper put her hand to her temples. "Do we really need to discuss this right now?"

"Yes!" Polly said vehemently. She wasn't going to let the topic slide. "I'm the one who had to put up with you for two years after you broke up with Supercunt. I know what getting over her did to you; I was there Piper." Polly looked at her friend, imploring her to remember those dark years. "I practically saved your life on more than one occasion. I think I deserve an explanation as to why you decided to help her after all this time."

"Look Pol, you are my best friend. I am grateful for everything you've done for me, especially" Piper looked her square in the eye "during that period. I just need some time to think things over."

Polly crossed her arms as their food was placed before them. "Don't you think you should have done that before you got involved?"

**_Dear Ms. Piper Chapman,_**

**_I was given your name by an associate of my client. In regards to your concern about not being in contact with my client, I assure you that any and all information you can contribute will assist with the trial. The more insight the judge obtains concerning my client's character, the greater chance that, should the jury rule unfavorably, the sentence will reflect the mandatory minimum._**

**_I feel that I should clarify one point. I am not asking you to write about who she may be as a person now. As you indicated, there is no way for you to know. It is rather the person that you knew. I have been informed vaguely of your connection with my client. Unfortunately, there is no other person that could reveal the specific aspects of my client's persona that you were undoubtedly privy to. For that reason, I believe that your testimonial has the potential to greatly impact the portrayal of my client to the presiding judge. I urge you to reconsider your previous decision to withhold your testimony. Thank you for your time._**

**_Sincerely,_**

**_Matthew R. Crowe  
Crowe and Associates_**

* * *

Author's Note: Still interested?


	4. Annoying Midgets

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/Italics are emphasis/letters/internal thoughts

* * *

"Hey Pipes?"

Larry poked his head into the kitchen, clearing a space and dumping a handful of papers onto a small stack on the counter. He set his briefcase on a barstool.

"Hey! How was work? Did you get the notes back from the editor today?" She continued stirring the simmering contents of a gigantic pot.

"Yes. He's being a complete dick, as usual. At least it is a job though. I don't know if I could go back to writing articles about edging. Remind me to tell your brother that was a terrible idea." Larry sat down at the center island.

Piper giggled, "But you were just so pleasant that week!" Her voice took on a more serious tone, "Up until you, I had never met a guy that would forego sex for masturbation. You are something special babe."

"No. You don't get to do that! You know it was for work!" He got up and walked over to the stove. "You know how hard it was to do that, knowing you were just a few rooms away?" he spoke roughly.

"Ew! Spare me the details, jeeze!" She backed away, reaching for some more chopped herbs.

Larry sniffed the contents of the pot. "This supposed to be dinner?"

"Yep. For like the next week." She tossed in some more basil. "Did you know that Lentils were ranked one of the top ten worlds healthiest foods?" Larry looked over at her, unfazed. "Seriously! They are high in Potassium, Iron, Folate, and Niacin. It will be a good detox for our systems."

Her boyfriend groaned and laid his head on the stack of mail he had brought in. "Another health kick. I'm going to cancel those damn magazine subscriptions Pipes." He started sorting through the magazines and junk mail, setting aside _Women's World_, _Tathaastu_, and _First For Women_.

Piper smiled at her soup. He could cancel them if he wanted. She had found this one online.

"Hmm.. I think we are getting someone's mail?"

"Is it the neighbors again? They are always giving out the wrong address. If they weren't so old I would think they are doing it on purpose." Piper looked over to Larry, annoyed that the problem still hadn't been solved.

"No it's some P.O. Box. I don't think I grabbed this one." He rustled through a few more documents. "Nope, that one was here already. Did you check the mail earlier?"

"No. Here, let me see." Piper snatched the envelope from the countertop. Her eyes scanned over the familiar writing.

_Alex Vause #1975-0425  
Federal Department of Corrections  
900 Litchfield Avenue  
Litchfield, New York 13357_

"Oh.." She didn't know how to play this off. Apparently she had left it under her laptop on the counter before Larry had come home. "This is actually mine. It must have been addressed wrong and the post office just forwarded it." She hoped she sounded convincing.

"Pipes it's not made out to you," her boyfriend pointed out.

"Oh that? That's just a silly nickname from years ago." She could feel sweat gathering on her palms.

"A nickname? What does it mean?" Seriously, _enough_ with the third degree!

_Hey you, Laura Ingalls Wilder..._

"You know, I don't really remember. Funny how some things just stick." She gave her boyfriend a small smile before ladling out dinner.

_L.I.W. -_

_I don't need any friends but if I say that in front of some people in here I might get shived. And if I didn't write back one particular blonde midget will annoy the fuck out of me. Just because she doesn't get visitors or letters doesn't mean other people's mail and personal life is an open forum for her damn perusal. I've told her this, but shit good that did me._

_The past few weeks have been.. great. It almost seems like I am just starting my sentence. When I first arrived I was sent to the SHU. I don't know if you are familiar with the term. Basically it is solitary. You get your own room, freedom to do whatever you want as long as you don't need more than eight feet to do it in. Just like a fucking vacation for one. But that is in the past now. I am out. I am free (relatively speaking). I am clean._

_Not surprised to hear that from a prisoner, right? Well, more than half the women in here have been using since they could stand on two feet, so I should count myself lucky. Luck among the unlucky. Sounds like a book title._

_I made a deal with the midget that I would answer your questions and she would quit nagging me about being an asshole and "ungrateful." I told her everyone has their own shit to deal with and to mind her own. She made some funny remark about how her shit stank worse than others. I had to agree. I'm there when she takes her morning dump. That putrid odor is not something I enjoy smelling during my ice shower. And yes, I am totally disclosing too much information about her personal habits. But she is insisting on reading this after, so making her uncomfortable is just a small bit of payback for being intrusive._

_The lack of privacy is not something I am going to get used to._

_How have I been? Absolutely marvelous. Living the life here in Litchfield.  
What is my favorite color? On me: black. On others: Red.  
What type of music do I enjoy? Rock. Metal. Oldies, on occasion.  
Do I have any hobbies? I did. Not anymore. I'm in prison, remember?  
What do I do for fun? Watch said midget try to get a comb through her hair. It's hysterical.  
Cats or dogs? I've never had a pet. They require too much attention that I never had time to give them.  
Coffee or tea? What are you British Ms. L.I.W.? Or maybe Asian? Coffee, hands down.  
Do I read? No, I had to have a guard read your letter to me. Yes, I read.  
What genre do you prefer? In terms of novels, mostly Nonfiction. Some historical fiction.  
Do I have a favorite book? A favorite, no. I had a wall full of books that I enjoyed. I cannot simply pick _one_.  
What is my favorite movie? I don't have one. If anything I prefer theatre performances but I haven't attended one in years.  
Who is my favorite actress or actor? Actress - whoever I find appealing at the given moment. I don't judge too much ;-)  
Do I have a favorite food dish? E'ia Ota and Bebek Betutu. I could never decide._

_- Alex Vause_

There was some different handwriting up the margin of the paper. Piper turned the page ninety degrees and read through the postscript.

_For the record, I am not a blonde midget. I am just not a giant, like your friend here. Name's Nichols, Nicky Nichols. Alex was lying about the bathroom bits. My shit smells like roses. And if this colossal jerk bores you, I am always available ;-)_

Piper smiled to herself. Alex had always been anything but boring.

* * *

Author's Note: How am I doing?


	5. Conventionality

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/Italics are emphasis/letters/internal thoughts

* * *

_Greetings Alex Vause,_

_First off, I would advise you to avoid getting "shived." Personally that doesn't sound pleasant and I am sure getting into an altercation is not something looked kindly on by the staff. Second, please tell Mrs. Nichols thank you. Or, if she reads this letter for some reason, Ms. Nichols I thank you for "annoying the fuck out of Ms. Vause."_

_I have heard stories about Solitary Confinement, or "SHU" as you say. I don't believe people deserve that type of treatment. There is not one single good thing I have heard about "SHU," so I am sorry that you had to endure a stay there. If I may ask, why were you sent there? If this is stepping over any bounds, please, feel free to say so. I do not mean to intrude._

Piper poured herself another glass of Robert Sinskey's Pinot Noir. Really she didn't give a damn about over-stepping social boundaries at the moment. After not having a clue what this "SHU" was, Piper had taken it upon herself to look into it. What she found appalled her. It was essentially an 8x8 foot windowless cement box where they sent inmates for disciplinary action. Sometimes for years on end. She had read several documentaries from prisoners about their experience in solitary; she had nearly wept at the injustice. Piper had to still her hand before she flat out demanded to be told what Alex had done to be sent there. She didn't know why she was getting herself all worked up over writing this response, she had told herself she was going to keep a level head and not fly off the handle. Maybe the half bottle of wine she consumed wasn't helping.

Setting down her wine glass, Piper looked back over Alex's letter. "_I am clean_." Every time her eyes scanned over those words she felt a twinge in her chest. Alex's nonchalant follow up didn't help matters. She was endlessly curious about what had become of her ex-girlfriend over the years. Piper was afraid if she pushed too hard for answers that either she would arouse suspicion or get herself shut out completely. Or both. At least at the moment Alex was humoring her.

_So you say you are clean now. That is a good thing._

Piper ran her hand through her hair._ I sound so awkward! What am I supposed to say to something like that?!_

_I have heard that overcoming addiction is one of the hardest things an individual can accomplish. Whether it means anything to you or not, I am proud that you are taking steps in the right direction._

_It sounds like you and Ms. Nichols have a strong friendship; your banter is fairly humorous. I'm not sure whether I believe what you revealed about her, but by the same token, I do not care for concrete evidence! Was your attempt at making her uncomfortable successful?_

_You speak of lack of privacy, if I may ask, what is it like in Litchfield? I have heard that in minimum security facilities that you have more freedom and a broader range of jobs to participate in. Are people typically friendly there?_

_Thank you for taking the time to answer the questions. I get the impression from some of your responses that it was not at the top of your to-do list for the day._

_Yea, no shit,_ Piper thought to herself.

"I know half the answers to these stupid questions. _'Had to have a guard read your letter to me_.' Ha-fucking-ha. Clever Alex, clever," she mumbled, the wine giving her courage to speak aloud.

_Hopefully that will change and you won't need Ms. Nichols to force you to write someone back. I am sorry if this is a chore for you. As a way of apologizing for being bothersome, you should be receiving a package shortly. Thank you for your time Ms. Vause. I hope all is well on your end._

_Sincerely,_

_L.I.W.  
P.O. Box 54781  
Brooklyn, New York 11203_

Setting down her pen, Piper looked over the letter she scrawled. It all seemed so formal. Nothing had been formal between them. Nothing. Every aspect of their life together had been full of impulsive, crazy decisions. It had been wonderful, but now she was a changed woman. Piper liked to think that by being with Larry she had simply grown up over the last three years. She swept her gaze across the room. It was immaculate. Everything had it's own place, as if it was out of a _Good Housekeeping_ magazine. Her eyes came to rest on the sleeping form of her boyfriend.

"Am I dull and boring Larry..? Is that who I am now?" she whispered to the unconscious man. At her words, Larry's sleeping form shifted, an arm extended out toward her side of the bed.

Grabbing the bottle by the neck, Piper took a long pull of wine. _Just because I am more mature doesn't mean that I can't be impulsive and crazy sometimes._

Pulling down another thick piece of parchment, the blonde once again took up her pen.

_Hello Ms. Nichols,_

_Thank you for coercing my pen pal here into responding to my letter. I believe when you say that you are not a midget, but you make it sound like Ms. Vause is eight feet tall! Surely one of that stature would need special sleeping arrangements! Regardless of how annoyed with me Ms. Vause may become, I doubt that I will become bored with our communication. That aside, I would love to keep in touch with you. How has your stay been? Do you like Litchfield? What do you do there? Are you from New York? Tell me about yourself. From your postscript you seem to have a remarkable sense on humor._

_I had something shipped to you and Ms. Vause. Just a little something to pass the time. I am not sure if it is exactly your style, but hopefully you will enjoy it. Hope to hear from you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_L.I.W.  
P.O. Box 54781  
Brooklyn, New York 11203_

Placing the two letters in envelopes, Piper buried them in an alcove of the desk. She looked back over to where her boyfriend slept. _I am not dull._ She stood up quickly, swaying as the alcohol saturated blood drained from her head. She walked over to the bedside slowly and carefully, ungracefully pulling her shirt over her head. After several moments of being stuck and unable to see through the cloth of her tee-shirt, Piper flung the material to the floor. Soon after followed her remaining clothes.

Taking care not to trip, Piper eased into the warmth of her boyfriend's arms. She kissed his stubble softly, earning a content sigh from her lover.

"Babe.." she whispered into his ear, pressing her naked body against his.

Her boyfriend was still half asleep, a confused "Hmm?" as his only response.

She deepened her kiss, moving her hands to show him what she wanted.

"Pipes," Larry pulled away from her insistent displays of affection. "It's two am. What are you doing? Get some rest."

_I am not boring._

"Shh.." Piper silenced him momentarily with a kiss. "What does it look like I'm doing..?"

Larry groaned and fell back onto the bed. So much for that rest.

* * *

Author's Note: I know you all love Larry, right? Let me know if you still want more.


	6. Rooftop Hysterics

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/italics are emphasis/letters/internal thoughts

* * *

Piper's hands shook as she tried to focus on her spreadsheet. It was crucial that she updated the company's books with the recent influx of sales since their products appeared on the shelves in Bloomingdale's. In all honesty, they were being swamped with orders and the _Popey_ product line was really gaining a lot of attention among the upper class. But even with all the current attention, it never hurt to continue promoting and putting their product out there for other high end stores to enter into a contract with Popey.

Even if the company wasn't successful, they still needed accurate figures in order to keep the level or transparency they had been operating under. Not to mention the additional revenues only made Popey seem more like a profitable investment than it already was. That was the goal, especially since in a few weeks they had meetings with the owners of _Red Door Spa_ and a panel from_ Sephora_.

If everything went in their favor, they were going to be in boutiques on Fifth Avenue.

_Fifth. Avenue._

Piper was excited. She had been thrilled when reports came back on how the customers were reacting to the product. Polly was nearly bouncing off the walls of their new office building. It was a good thing that they had hired Tara and Rose to run the boutique shop because the way Polly was acting, she would scare away each and every customer, without a doubt. Piper could see it now:

_"Hi, welcome to Popey! How are you today?" Polly would greet the customer with a huge grin on her face._

_"Good, good," the customer would deflect the question indifferently._

_"Have you been in the store before?" At this point the customer would see the enthusiasm in Polly's eyes pleading them to say no just so she could tell them all about the products._

_"No.." Piper could almost hear the fear in her made-up customer's voice._

_"Well, our new line of holiday fragrances just hit the shelves. My personal favorite is Peppermint. It reminds me of Christmas!" Polly would squeal, scrunching her face._

_The customer would reply. Something like "Oh, yea, peppermint. Maybe I'll try that," while eyeing the door as Polly launched into a monologue about how we are going to be in Bloomingdales, Red Door Spa, Sephora, a second location in the near future.." All before the customer even made it a few feet in the door._

Honestly, she would have been like that too. Full of barely controlled excitement about the success of the company. Their idea. Their "baby." It was growing into a toddler now, managing to stay vertical on its own two feet. It was just a matter of time before it was able to run.

But she wasn't; she was shaking in her fucking Christan Louboutin boots. Which, really, was probably unnecessary. Probably an overreaction. Probably nothing. Right? Right.

"Piper, why are you shaking?" She turned from the computer screen, effectively pulling herself from the daydream.

Polly was standing beside her desk balancing a bag of Noah's Bagels and two cups evidently from Birch Coffee.

"Um.. I'm cold?" Piper stumbled for an excuse, her brain not quite caught up with her mouth yet.

"Pipes it's like 75 degrees in here. How the hell are you cold?" Polly set the drinks down and pulled out a cinnamon raisin bagel. "Damn these smell good!"

"Yea, maybe. I think.. fresh air," Piper stammered, rushing from the room passed a confused Polly.

She could hear her friend yelling after her, "Piper, what the hell!" Making it to the stairwell, she took the steps two at a time till she reached the door.

Walking over to the railing, she peered out at the morning skyline of Manhattan. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she white-knuckled the protective wrought-iron fencing. Even outside with the bustle of people below her, Piper felt like she was detached. Like everything around her was unreal, fuzzy and somewhat just out of reach. The footsteps behind her blended in with the pounding of her racing heart; the voice calling to her a far-away whisper.

Piper bent over, trying to relieve the tightness in her chest. She felt pressure on her back and took a few moments before she realized it must be Polly.

"Just breathe, Pipes," her friend's voice continued soothingly, "you're going to be okay. Deep breaths now."

It took an embarrassing amount of time for her to regain control of herself. When she was finally able to straighten she couldn't look Polly in the eye. She glanced back at the city, rubbing the side of her face. She felt raw and exposed; she didn't even know what just happened.

Polly stood there next to her for a few minutes before sighing and pulling her into a hug. "Don't scare me like that again, asshole. What the hell happened to you?"

Piper buried her head in her friend's shoulder. "I don't know. I'm sorry Pol.."

"Come on, Pipes, I haven't seen you freak out like that in years. What's going on?" Polly spoke softly, trying to comfort her friend and keep her calm.

"I.. I mean.. There's.." Piper slumped, letting her arms drop. She backed away from Polly's embrace and carefully rubbed her face in her hands. "God, I'm such an asshole."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

Crossing her arms, Piper looked back toward the skyscrapers. "I'm talking to her, Pol."

"I know," Polly said, shrugging her shoulders.

Piper's head snapped back to her friend. "What do you mean, 'you know?'"

"Weellll..." Polly said, stooping down to grab the coffees off the ground. "You told me a few months ago that her lawyer contacted you." She handed a coffee to Piper. "I just assumed that you wouldn't be able to resist getting ahold of her." Polly shrugged. "You know, I'm not as dumb as I apparently look. I'm just surprised she's willing to talk to you after what happened between you two. Especially because you didn't tell her you-"

Piper cut her best friend off. "I know, Pol. Shit! I know."

"Okay, so what's the big deal? Why the panic attack?"

Staring at the ground, Piper toyed with the heel of her boot while she tried to force the words from her mouth. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she took a sip of the lukewarm coffee. Polly just continued to stare at her expectantly.

"Look, I.. She.. I..didn'ttellherwhoIam," she finally blurted out.

"What?" Polly was thoroughly confused.

"She doesn't know it's _me_."

"How is that even possible?"

Piper didn't know how else to get her point across. Reaching into her jacket she pulled out the letter and thrust it into Polly's hand. "I never told her my real name. But I think she knows Pol." Piper fiddled with her coffee lid nervously. "Shit!" she cursed loudly. "I think she knows it's me."

_L.I.W-_

_I was only kidding about the getting shived part. This is a minimum security prison. Stuff like that happens down in Max. Most I'll get is some enemies but I really don't care. Half the women in here hate me already anyway. I told Nicky you said thank you. She'd want me to tell you "you're welcome," but really she just snorted._

_Asking me why I was sent to SHU is stepping over a fuck-ton of boundaries, but I am feeling generous for some reason. I was sent there to sweat out my withdrawals. I was there for a month. It was hell, but it wasn't the worst thing that has happened to me. Like I said, I am out and I am clean. Let's leave the past in the past for now, alright?_

_Nicky and I are good friends, even if she is annoying as fuck, disgusting, and downright vulgar on most occasions. Maybe that is why we get along. My attempt at making her uncomfortable just made her laugh. Then she called me a princess and said I had a delicate nose. Which I do not. Her shits melt flesh, I swear. There should be caution tape up blocking entry when she hits the throne._

_What is it like in Litchfield? It's fucking prison. Yea there are job assignments and for the most part we can walk around unrestrained, but it is still a fucking prison. I've been assigned laundry duty and I basically stand there and do laundry and fold clothes all day for eleven cents an hour. Fuck I miss my old job. This is such bullshit._

_Thanks for the kit and the book by the way. Everyone in my dorm is jealous of the toiletries. The lotions and body spray smell fucking amazing. The others can suck it up though; I have never been one to share. How did you even know I liked poetry? Random guess? Nicky loved the book you sent her. At one point she was even laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. Never thought I'd see the day. I suppose you are immensely perceptive as well, little fourpaws._

_-Alex Vause #1975-0425_  
_Federal Department of Corrections_  
_900 Litchfield Avenue_  
_Litchfield, New York 13357_

* * *

Author's Note: Continue?


	7. Why Did You Go

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/Italic sections are letters/emphasis/internal thoughts

* * *

Polly read through the letter and looked up at her troubled best friend. "Why do you think she suddenly knows it is you? No, wait." Polly closed her eyes and put her hands up, halting Piper's response. "First of all, fuck you for thinking you could hide this from me. Second, you should know that I think communicating with that bitch is a terrible fucking idea, even though _the second_ you told me about her lawyer I knew it was inevitable. Third, and the most confusing of all, why are you pretending to be someone else?"

Averting her eyes, Piper focused on the nervous kneading of her hands. "Polly I'm sorry.."

"No, don't shove this under the rug with a half-hearted apology. Explain." Polly looked to her friend and business partner. She knew Supercunt was worming her way back into Piper's life. However, it looked like Piper had made plans of her own. And with the recent _scene_ Piper just made, it seemed like things weren't going too smoothly. As much as Polly hated the idea of Piper getting in touch with that conniving siren, she knew there was nothing she could do to prevent it this time. So she waited. She waited patiently for her best friend to open up and trust her.

"Did you know fifty-two percent of federal drug offenders enter the system while dependent on substances?" Piper rattled off, facing the city once again.

Polly came and stood next to her, wrapping her free arm around Piper's shoulders.

"Forty-three percent are female." She whispered, feeling a chill run down her spine. Polly must have felt her shudder because her friend tightened her hold.

"Seems like you did some research there, Pipes." Polly knew her friend was just beating around the bush still. She stood there with her for a few more minutes, gazing at the tiny people milling about the city.

Finally, Piper spoke. "Pol, I don't.. I can't just leave her there alone. Again. I thought.. I wanted her to have someone. On the outside, you know? Just know someone is waiting for her on the outside. You know what I mean?"

"Pipes, I know what you mean. But I don't think you do," came Polly's cryptic response.

Piper wasn't listening, "I didn't think she would want to talk to me. So I used an acronym. The nickname she gave me when we first met. Remember I told you? Laura Ingalls Wilder?" Piper turned to Polly and searched her friend's face for understanding.

"Vaguely. That was a long time ago."

Barely letting her finish, Piper continued. "Well, that is what I've been doing. I wanted her to have a friend but if she finds out it is me she might not.. she might not want to talk to me." Piper's voice broke on the admission.

"Listen. I read through that note. What makes you think that she knows it is you? Honestly, Polly didn't see anything wrong with the letter. Besides the fact that the letter even existed in the first place.

The blonde grabbed the note back from Polly. Scanning it for a second, she pointed to a section near the top. "_'But I am feeling generous for some reason._' What would make her feel generous? She never used to be so trusting when I knew her. I mean, she trusted me but others never got past her thorny outer exterior. Now all of a sudden she lets me in? Some stranger that she's never met?"

"Calm down. You're working yourself up again," Polly said softly, trying to talk down Piper from her mental ledge. "You haven't talked to her in years. How do you know she hasn't changed? Also, it seems that this 'Nicky' person was also allowed passed Supercunt's.. what did you call it? 'Thorny outer exterior?'" Polly chuckled softly. "You can be _so_ emo at times Piper. Seriously, how old are we now?"

Piper glared at her. "Okay, then _'let's leave the past in the past for now_.' Do I really need to explain what I think she is talking about?"

"Nope. If you calm down and actually read the paragraph, she is talking about the month she spent in SHU. She doesn't want to talk about that time because it is in the past. She is asking you to leave it there." Polly took another sip of her now cold coffee. "Seriously, I think you are getting paranoid."

"Then explain this." Piper held a shaky finger to the last sentence.

Polly raised her eyebrow. "What about it?"

"_'Little fourpaws_?' Do you not know what that means?" Piper practically hissed.

"No?" Polly didn't get why it was such a big deal. "You know, if looks could kill.."

"It's from a poem. A poem from the book I sent her." Her eyes pleaded for her best friend to understand.

"That really doesn't help me at all. Isn't it good that she is reading the book? It means she likes the gift?" Sometimes Piper just confused the hell out of her.

"That's not.." The blonde tossed her head back in frustration. She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down. Really, she was way overreacting. After a few moments she whispered, "why did you go."

"I'm right here.."

"No, that's the name. The name of the poem she referenced. _'Why Did You Go_.'" Piper deflated; how could that be just a coincidence?

"Pipes," Polly walked over and embraced her friend. "Some people have imaginary friends, you have imaginary problems. Maybe she just got it from reading the book. I truly think that you are getting paranoid and reading way to much into what she is saying. Just ignore the 'little fourfeet,' or whatever, comment and see how she reacts." Polly rubbed Piper's back soothingly. "_Or_, you could just stop talking to her.."

Piper recoiled. "How could you say that!"

"Hey, it was worth a shot," Polly lightly squeezed Piper's arm. "Come on, let's get back inside, slacker. I know for a fact that you have a lot of work to do. I'm going to start docking your pay."

She got a weak smile, but it was still the first one she had seen on Piper's face since she had arrived at the office. The accompanying "asshole" didn't even bother her in the slightest.

They walked back toward the rooftop door, Polly's arm slung over Piper's shoulders. "Wait, now I am curious. What book did you send her anyway?"

Piper sighed and turned into her friend. "E.E. Cummings. It's one of her favorites."

"Really." Polly deadpanned. "If you are trying _so hard_ to be inconspicuous, why would you send her a book that you should have no idea she loved?"

"Because I wasn't thinking." Piper rested her head on Polly's shoulder. "I just wanted to make her happy."

_Greetings Alex Vause,_

_I hope all has been going well for you. Why do you think half the women you are there with hate you? Do you snore really loud or something? Or maybe you are the type of person that can't control their flatulence? I think those are really the only things that would bother me if I was forced to deal with someone every day. Actually, I take that back. I ran into a Jehovah's Witness today on the street after work. I think I would go mental if I had to live with someone who pushes their beliefs onto other people. It is one thing to talk about your religion, it is quite another to throw it in people's faces. I apologize if you are a religious person. Now that I think about it, I should probably steer clear of any "hot topics." So, about abortion and gay marriage…_

_Just kidding. _

_Thank you for answering my question regarding the SHU period. I feel honored that you shared your experience with me. I am glad that it wasn't the most terrible time of your life, but I am also sorry that you've had an experience comparatively worse than solitary._

Piper would bet almost anything that Alex was vaguely hinting at the time when Piper had left her in Paris. Then, and the time period immediately following. They had both been so completely fucked up that Piper couldn't imagine a worse time in her own life.

_Nicky is quite a character. I agree with you entirely on the vulgar part. Some of the things she has written are just.. I suppose "TMI" is the only acceptable description. I don't find her annoying and disgusting but then again I do not have to live with the woman. I do believe that if I ever get a chance to have coffee with her, or something of the like, that it would be a very.. entertaining meeting. That aside, I am glad that you are getting along and have a friend in there, regardless of how many people you think may dislike you._

_So let me get this straight, so far you are a "giant lucky princess/jerk that has a sensitive nose, hates animals, and is paranoid that everyone hates her." Did I hit the nail on the head?_

_I am sorry that the penal system is weighing so heavily on you. Would getting outside help? I heard that a lot of prisons have a track or some form of exercise area set up. Some have GED programs I read about that are supposed to be beneficial. Perhaps partaking in activities that you would normally do if you were outside the gates may help. What was your old job? I used to be a waitress down on Park near Midtown. I'm not going to lie, I was a terrible waitress. I think people only gave me tips because they felt bad for me._

_I am glad that you like the gifts. Least I could do for bothering you all the time, right? To answer your question, I wasn't entirely sure if you liked poetry. You said that you preferred plays over movies and that you enjoyed reading. I am the same way and E.E. Cummings is one of my favorite poets. I figured if you knew his works you might like him and if you hadn't heard of him then it's time you should!_

_Nicky told me all about her favorite parts of the book. I didn't think "Hyperbole and a Half" would be such a huge hit with her. I'll extend you the same offer I gave her: if there are any books that you would like to read, let me know. I encourage all forms of reading and would be more than happy to send off a book or two._

_I hope all is well on your end._

_Sincerely,_

_L.I.W._  
_P.O. Box 54781_  
_Brooklyn, New York 11203_

* * *

Author's Note: What do you think? Does she know something or is Piper just paranoid?


	8. Baby Steps

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/Italic sections are letters/emphasis/internal thoughts

* * *

A bag of Rold Gold flew on a collision course for Polly's head. She ducked just in time as it hit the wall, both women hearing about half the bag instantly smashed to bits.

"Geeze Pipes, what the hell?"

"You were supposed to catch it, you oaf. Now they're all broken." She walked over and inspected the bag before dumping the contents in a bowl.

"I catch with my hands, not my face! That's it. I am seriously going to reduce your pay rate." Polly fished around her cabinets for more snacks. What is a game night without cheese balls, chips and dip, and the veggie platter that nobody ever touches?

"It doesn't work like that; I am salary. You know, _technically_, since you are my business partner, any time I spend with you I should be getting paid." Piper looked to her best friend, flashing her a mischievous grin.

"Fine. Then I'll file a report for assault, hurling items at my head for no reason. Still want that overtime?" She picked up her phone threateningly and looked over at the blonde.

"Everyone knows I couldn't hurt a fly even if I wanted to. You know how Larry complains every time I make him move a spider out to the fire escape," Piper pointed out. How could such a pretty little girl like her ever cause harm to someone on purpose?

Polly rolled her eyes. "He only complies to stop your shrieking. Two words Pipes,_ Phidippus audax_."

"Okay, THAT spider was ginormous. AND it _jumped_. I swear, it tried to latch onto my face." Both women shivered at the memory. The spider had been at least two inches long. And a jumper. Piper had locked herself in the bathroom, an entire roll of toilet paper wadded under the door gap. Polly had thought someone was trying to break in until she got Piper to calm down enough over the phone and sent Pete to her rescue.

"Sure Pipes, sure." They both chuckled. "You seem more cheery than the normal 'let's-get-to-business' Piper that I am use to. What's the special occasion?"

Piper bounced on the balls of her feet. Maybe she was more relaxed than usual. With all the business meetings and paperwork she had been gradually putting in longer and longer hours at the office. Piper didn't mind the extra work, especially because Popey was flourishing, due in part to her efforts.

"Well, Larry asked me out on a date and it's _not_ to our local watering hole." Getting that man to go anywhere out of the way or expensive was like trying to pull teeth.

"Aw that's sweet. Are you nervous about it?"

"No, it's not like it's our first date. We both just work long hours. By the time we see each other at home we are both so tired we just pass out on the bed. I think it is his attempt at keeping us from turning into workaholics," Piper admitted, trying to fish out the broken pretzels from the tray.

"Then what are the nerves from?" Piper looked up from her platter.

"You can be a real pain in the ass, you know."

Polly smiled, completely unoffended. "Comes with being nosey. Sooo... why the jumpiness?"

Piper sighed. "Because I am just paranoid and overreacted. Must have been all those theatre classes at Smith. You were right."

"Say that again."

"Say what?" Piper asked innocently. "...Fine, fine. Polly, you were right."

"I told you so," Polly said as Piper silently mocked her. "But really, I am glad you are feeling better. You had be worried for a bit Pipes."

"I am too. God it is just so nice to talk to her." Polly caulked an eyebrow.

"Did she only just get back to you? Who knew it takes Supercunt months to write a simple response? Speaking of which, you know it all doesn't count, right? Because you are not _you_. You are getting her to trust a person that doesn't actually exist." Polly popped a carrot into her mouth.

She didn't know what to say. "Bu.. It's not.. At least she has someone."

"Yea sure, for now."

Piper was done talking about this. Her elation from Larry's date and Alex's letter had been deflated. "Thanks for bursting my bubble, bestie."

"Anytime Pipes, anytime."

_L.I.W.-_

_I should have you know that I _pass wind_ no more than any other normal person. However, the women in here are disgusting and I am pretty sure that I have heard _and seen_ more open displays of bodily functions here than I have in my entire life. Furthermore, I don't snore. At least no one has ever outright told me that I do. My bunkie, on the other hand, sounds like a lawnmower. I wish I was kidding._

_The Ghetto doesn't associate with me because I am White. The Spanish Harlem hates me because I am gay. The Golden Girls just don't give a shit about anything. Half of White Suburbia hates me because they follow this crazy meth-head who is convinced that "Mr. Christ" will banish all lesbians to hell during the rapture. Anndd now I sound like a racist. Before you process that and slap a label on me, let me explain. Being here is like being back in the nineteen fifties. Most things are separated out by race. The African American dorms were dubbed "The Ghetto." The Hispanic dorms were labeled "The Spanish Harlem." Caucasian sleeping quarters are considered "The White Suburbs." Each also have their own separate bathrooms. Anyone over fifty is classified as one of the "Golden Girls," for obvious reasons. They told me when I was allowed in general population that "it's tribal, not racist." The officers also said it was for our own protection, to keep fights to a minimum. Think Arthur Laurents's _West Side Story_ and you are not too far off the mark. So, that is apparently the long explanation of why everyone hates me._

_A Jehovah's Witness? Did you give them a piece of your mind? I am not a very religious person. The fact that every single religion thinks all the others are going to their individual versions of "hell" doesn't appeal to me. Plus, the whole exclusivity factor.. doesn't exactly welcome me with open arms, you know?_

_Oh yes, those touchy "hot topics." Honestly I wouldn't mind discussing them. Or debating about them, depending on your views. I support that a woman has a right to make decisions about her own body, though I could never choose to have an abortion for personal reasons. If it really doesn't affect _me_ then who am I to judge? Lucky for me I don't have to worry about that ever being a problem. Great segue into the next topic. I completely support gay marriage. The whole idea of marriage isn't really my scene, but trying to withhold rights that another couple has just because one member isn't hairier or has dangly parts? Not cool. Love between two members of the same sex is very real and doesn't merit invalidation simply because people cannot accept it. Their love is just as strong, just as potent, just as all-consuming, and just as devastating. If not more._

_Anyway, I am surprised that you are not completely repulsed by the midget. She might tone down on the nasty with you though. I am not sure. I'm not nosey enough to butt myself into her business like she did with me. At least not her private correspondence. Her relationships are a totally different matter. Ask her about "Morello" sometime if you don't already know about them._

_There are a few people in here that I've made friends with. Nicky is one of them. There are a few more. It seems we have formed our own little clique, of sorts. Sometimes it actually feels like I am back in high school. I did want to mention, before I forget, that I appreciate what you are doing for Nicky. I've noticed she gets a letter almost every mail period and when her name is called her face literally _lights up_. Before she never got any letters or visitors and it sucked watching her be let down week after week. It still is pretty depressing when I pass the visitation area and see her standing at the window. Her mother is one piece of work._

_To set the record straight, I am not a giant. I am 5' 10". The Carhartt boots they give us here add about an inch and a half and I don't slouch. So really, most of the time it seems closer to six feet. Keep in mind, most of the women here are really short, like Nichols. And they exaggerate. Like, a lot._

_Really, I am not lucky. If I were, I don't think I would be here, in this position, contacting you in this fashion._

_I suppose I can admit to being a jerk. I have my moments._

_My sense of smell is perfectly fine. I don't hate animals, as I said before I never really had time for them. As much as I use to fight it, my job really ran my life. And destroyed it. I was told once that it was ruining everything good in my life. That person was right. I should have listened._

_I could have had a puppy. Or maybe a goldfish.. baby steps._

_I've never really been a fan of working out. My exercise typically consisted of.. a lot less sweating and a lot less clothing. The GED programs are a joke. Not only that, but the building has been condemned due to toxic mold throughout all the interior walls. You couldn't pay me to step foot in there. Maybe I just need some fresh air. You'd think in the nearly six months I've been here I would have thought of that on my own. I swear the stupidity I am surrounded by is infecting my brain cells. God help me._

_My old job I worked for an International Drug Cartel. Basically the behind the scenes scheduler/importer. I told people where to be and when, no questions asked. Now I wash and fold stained prison uniforms. Sorry you asked yet?_

_I know quite a few people that have been waitresses. A couple starving actors. Artists trying to make it big. One of my ex's actually use to be a waitress on Steinway by Broadway. That's a good area for getting tips, at least I think. It might have just been her personality though; she was a real people-pleaser and the customers just ate that up. Why do you say you were a bad waitress?_

_You're not bothering me with the letters. If you were I wouldn't reply. I do still have _some_ control over my life, however small. The only reason it takes me so long to get back to you is because I have a lot of shit going on. Legal matters and such. Typical bullshit._

_Of course I have read E.E. Cummings. It has been.. a long time. A brush up on his works was a good idea. Thank you for offering to send reading material, however, I will not request anything. If you send something that is fine but it will be of your own accord. Don't let Nicky take advantage of that either. There is a term for that in prison: "commissary hoe."_

_-Alex Vause #1975-0425  
Federal Department of Corrections  
900 Litchfield Avenue  
Litchfield, New York 13357_

* * *

Author's Note: I looked at so many pictures of spiders to find the right one that I am going to have big, hairy, spidery nightmares. I hope it was worth it to you guys. Leave a review if you want more.


	9. Disonancia

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/Italic sections are letters/emphasis/internal thoughts

* * *

_Greetings Alex Vause,_

_Since you admit to being a jerk, shall I title the letters as such? Anyway, Litchfield seems like a blast back to the fifties, right? Are there typically a lot of fights that break out? I thought having separate bathrooms for different races was illegal. Do they have separate drinking fountains for you all as well? It doesn't seem like the whole prison hates you, as you said. They just don't know you. I'm sure once people get to know you they will seem more friendly. Most people are in there for drugs and taxes, correct? They can't all be murderers; some of them must be nice._

_No, I didn't give the Jehovah's Witness a piece of my mind. I kept my mouth shut and just tried to walk around him. I was close to slapping him if he stepped in front of me again. I understand where you are coming from with your view of religion. I find it hard to accept that there is a person up there that allows genocide in Rwanda, Darfur, and the Central African Republic. That there is some guy up there that allows a country like Germany to imprison, starve and torture hundreds of thousands of people simply because they have different beliefs. That a person like Jim Jones is created in the likeness of this benevolent almighty being, yet he can deceive nearly a thousand people, women and children included, into committing suicide. I just can't accept that._

_I empower women. I believe they have a right to their own body and no one should tell them what to or what not to do with it. I also support gay marriage, for the same reasons that you do. Sorry, no heated discussions today. Shucks, huh._

_Nicky has mentioned Morello, as well as Christopher. Do you think that he actually exists? Well, he probably _exists_, but do you think that he is actually waiting the three years till she gets out to marry her? I enjoy chatting with Ms. Nichols. Her humor has really begun to rub off on me and we actually have a lot more in common than I initially thought. I am happy to hear that one of you gets excited about receiving letters._

Piper decided to let the next couple paragraphs slip through the conversation. She knew how tall Alex was and she was just poking fun at her about being a giant. The woman was really the perfect height. Perfect for her to tuck her head under her chin. Perfect for her to mold to the brunette's front as a little spoon. She had just tried to get a rise out of her because she knew how secretly annoyed she would get when strangers gawked at her height. Piper smiled; she use to stare at her as well, but that was for entirely different reasons.

She scanned the letter again, her eyes resting on one paragraph in particular. "_I was once told that it was ruining everything good in my life. That person was right. I should have listened. I could have had a puppy. Or maybe a goldfish_." Piper wanted to reply with a snarky comment about how the goldfish would probably die from neglect. That she should start with something like a Furby that only needed imaginary food as sustenance. Ultimately, she decided against it. It would reveal too much information about who she really was and, honestly, she didn't want to fight with Alex. She always hated when they use to argue.

**"What the hell Piper, don't just stomp around here all pissed off. What the hells the matter with you?" They stood facing each other momentarily before Piper threw her cell phone at the bed in frustration.**

**"You said tonight was ****_our_**** night Alex. It's eleven-fucking-o'clock and you're still on the computer." Piper was livid. They had been in Barcelona a week and tonight was the first night they were actually going out.**

**"Babe.. I told you something came up. I can't just ignore Fahri," Alex tried to explain. Again. This wasn't the first time the issue had come up.**

**"Of course," Piper huffed.**

**"Pipes, shit happens. What the hell am I supposed to do? You think I wanted to spend the rest of the night hunched over the fucking computer sorting out shit these morons fucked up?" Her voice was raising with the idea that her girlfriend thought she was doing this on purpose.**

**"I duno, Alex. It's pretty fucking convenient that every time we make plans 'something comes up.' If you don't want to go just tell me. I'm not some trophy-wife; I can go without you," Piper asserted, slipping on her Giuseppe Zanotti heels.**

**"I'm not forcing you to stay in the room. ****_Go_****. Have fun. Have fun for the both of us Piper because this is ****_what I do_****. You know this. You've known since the beginning. You honestly think I don't want to spend the evening with you? Have you fucking lost your-" Alex's phone went off on the desk next to her computer.**

**"Don't answer that!" Piper stood up abruptly. "Just leave it and come with me."**

**Alex looked between the two. "Pipes.."**

**"Just tonight. Please." Piper was practically begging. "Come with me."**

**She could sense the war raging inside those green eyes, hidden behind thick black frames. Piper held her breath and if she thought it would help, she would have crossed her toes.**

**The phone rang out again, slicing through the silence in the room. And then she saw it. The flicker of regret.**

**Wordlessly, Alex turned and retrieved the phone. She answered on the last ring as she watched her girlfriend storm out the door.**

**When Piper returned it was nearly four in the morning. She was tired, too exhausted to be upset anymore. She ****_hated_**** when they got into fights. The only thing she wanted now was to fall asleep, safe in her girlfriend's protective embrace. With the tantrum she had thrown earlier she doubted that was a possibility.**

**Sitting on the counter was a half empty bottle of Orujo. Moonlight reflected off tiny shards of glass scattered across the other end of the kitchen, what appeared to be the remains of a shot glass thrown in a moment of rage. Guilt coursed through every fiber of her being as she picked up the Orujo and winced as the firewater burned down her throat.**

**Piper really,****_ really_**** hated fighting with Alex. Especially when the woman was right.**

**The brunette was already in bed, her back shutting off the rest of the room. Piper quietly slid under the sheets, cautiously wrapping her arm around her girlfriend's rigid form. She could feel the tension in the woman's muscles as she laid gentle kisses on the back of her neck and down her sinewy shoulder.**

**"I'm sorry," she murmured against chilled flesh. Pulling the duvet over them, she molded her body to the cold one before her. She sought her girlfriend's icy hand and twined their fingers together. She fell asleep with the words, "I'm sorry Al.." tumbling sleepily from her lips.**

It no longer pained Piper to hear Alex say that she works for an International Drug Cartel. Well, _worked_.

_I am only sorry I asked because I did not realize that it would lead to you disclosing illegal activities._

Piper was tempted to ask what she did to get in there. She was aware of the charges against her, thanks to Alex's lawyer keeping her informed. But as an anonymous pen-pal, she wasn't supposed to know any of that information. So should she ask? One of the books she read about prison said that people weren't supposed to ask that question. Maybe she shouldn't.

_My waitressing was just a job I took to get out of my apartment. It wasn't even my idea, it was my friend's brilliant idea. She called in a favor from a someone to get me the job. I honestly didn't give one single fuck whether I even showed up or not. Half the time I bothered to show up for my shift I was hung over. Some of the customers thought it was cute when I completely screwed up their orders. I think others just felt bad for me and gave me tips in hopes of getting into my pants. So, it really wasn't that I think I was a bad waitress. I know I was, and at that time, I couldn't care less. Not one of my best moments._

Alex's lawyer hadn't told her that there were still lingering issues with her sentence. What legal matters would she have to deal with? Did asking about that fall under the same category as asking what she did to get in there? Her curiosity got the best of her; Piper decided to go for it. Worst the woman could do was not tell her.

_What legal matters are you sorting out?_

She tried to wrack her brain for what legal issues Alex could possibly be dealing with.

_Are you trying to write an appeal?_

_I won't let Nicky become a "commissary hoe." I refuse to send her the literary smut that she has been requesting. Closest she will get is some Nicholson Baker. I did come across a book that you might be interested in. _The Glass Castle_ by Jeanette Walls. It is on its way, so hopefully you enjoy it. Hope all is well on your end._

_Sincerely,_

_L.I.W_  
_P.O. Box 54781_  
_Brooklyn, New York 11203_

* * *

Author's Note: I wasn't intending on that flashback being there, but it just seemed to happen as I was writing. Thoughts on it? Would you want to see more flashbacks or just stick with Piper's present life, as I was doing before?


	10. Revival

/Bold sections are flashbacks  
/Italic sections are letters/emphasis/notes  
/I lost the first copy when the site crashed last night. Enjoy version two.  
/I'll leave this pile of rocks _here_ for eventual hurling at me.  
/I didn't realize it cut off the first sentence till way later, but I fixed it. Sorry for the confusion.

* * *

"Piper, dear, dinner is ready. Are you still working on Popey's bank reconciliation?" The unexpected voice startled Piper from her reading.

She looked up from the pages on the table. "Uh..Yes... Yes I am."

"Can't you just purchase a program to do it for you? Mr. Petrova's kids are CPAs' and they just spend all their time on the computer. They hardly have to write at all these days!" Her mother stood in the door to the office. "I heard they aren't even teaching children cursive anymore in public schools." She knew what was coming next: the same lecture every single time she visited with her mother.

"You and Larry should consider starting your family before the education system degrades further. Pretty soon half of America will be raising illiterate children with the direction the school districts are heading!" So this was the angle she was taking this time. To hurry and procreate so that her grandchildren will be able to write in cursive. Very original.

"Mom, I'm fairly certain in another ten years cursive will still not be obsolete." Her mother went to open her mouth but she continued, "And if for some reason it is, _if_ and _when_ I decide to have children I will teach them."

"_If_ and _when_," her mother practically scoffed. "Piper, it is much harder to conceive when you are in your late thirties."

"Thanks mom." Because she really needed to hear that. Again.

"Oh but it's true. You just don't have a lot of time to waste." Mrs. Chapman beaconed to her daughter, switching the tone of the conversation almost seamlessly. "Now come to dinner before the food gets cold."

_L.I.W -_

_You can call me whatever you want, miss L.I.W. People normally just call me "ALLLEEXX..!" I'd have to say that one is definitely my favorite, hands down. Haha. And damn, I was really looking forward to a heated discussion concerning woman on woman intimacy and how much more _exciting_ it can be compared to having some sweaty guy humping himself against you. Maybe another time.. when I don't have a Correctional Officer reading through the letter before sending it out._

_They don't have drinking fountains here. You get a cup and water from a cooler in the cafeteria. Very classy, right? Speaking of class, there are not very many fights that break out. There was one I caught the tail-end of that was interesting, I guess. Two women were cat fighting over an ice cream cone. I mean like, full on: on the floor, biting, clawing, hair pulling, and slapping. I thought that sort of thing only happened in sleazy dive bars, of which I have seen my fair share. Litchfield proved me wrong._

_I'm sure Christopher exists and that he and Morello were together at some point in time. The main question is whether he has actually waited. I overheard that Morello hasn't been able to contact him in weeks. Plus, he has never once visited. No one here has actually _seen_ him. Anyway, you and Nichols are getting quite chummy. The midget talks about you a lot, did you know that? She told me about your business and I am glad it is going so well. A piece of advice, don't work so hard that you forget why you're doing it in the first place._

_How did you end up switching from being a waitress to self-employment? Why did didn't you care about your waitressing job? Not that a waitressing job is one worth calling home about, no offense. I know, I know: this coming from a drug importer, right? But seriously, Nicky said that you both had similar parenting growing up and if that's the case I'm not surprised you were dissatisfied with the career choice. But showing up drunk every shift? That sounds like a bit much, for anybody. What was going on?_

_I am no longer as extroverted as Nichols currently is, but I do enjoy receiveing your letters, honestly. It is a nice change from the constant letters from my legal advisors. I just don't have as much time to write as Nichols does. The legal issues are.. well, issues. It's complicated and really I can't talk about it. It's not an appeal though. I wish it was that easy. I'm pretty sure that nothing as simple as an appeal would help me at this point. At least that is what I am being told. I probably won't be able to write back for a while again. Probably longer than usual but I really do not know. I haven't decided. Just in case, if you send anything direct it to Nicky. She'll hold onto things for me._

_Thanks for the book. It reminded me of my own childhood which was actually just short of god-fucking-awful. But hey, it had a decent plot. You're right not to send Nicky smut. Her mind is salacious enough without the added help. Besides, I'm sure the COs will confiscate it. It will end up on someone's nightstand, sick fucks._

_-Alex Vause #1975-0425  
Federal Department of Corrections  
900 Litchfield Avenue  
Litchfield, New York 13357_

* * *

Piper was practically floating on air. Today had been amazing, relaxing and just exactly everything she needed after months of being a workaholic hermit. Polly had given her the okay for taking the afternoon off. She attended The March on Fifth Avenue and then bought a couple trinkets at PrideFest. Seeing all the people there was liberating. The street was blanketed in rainbows and there was never a moment when laughter wasn't ringing through the air. Everyone was just so _happy_. So.. _gay_.

Piper perused the street stalls and bought a little rainbow Pride pin that she had clipped to her shirt. It was all about solidarity of course. While she was wandering among the stalls, one picture had caught her eye in particular. It showed a woman in an aquarium fill of murky water. It was titled "_La Quiescenza del Seme_" by Silvia Costa. There was just _something_ about it that kept drawing her eye. Without thinking, Piper had been nearly ready to hand over her credit card when she suddenly realized that she would have to display it. One the wall. Around Larry. Her boyfriend wasn't much into art and she was almost positive that he wouldn't understand the meaning behind the photograph.

However, it turned out it was a good thing she didn't purchase the artwork. Carrying around a cumbersome package was no longer an issue and it freed her up for the "after-party." Attending the _Dance on the Pier_ was something she had always wanted to do. Years ago she had intended to crash the dance but ended up staying at a bar with a few of her old waitressing co-workers and became entirely too intoxicated to go anywhere near the ocean. Not that being practically inebriated had stopped her from visiting the Oceanside before. She should have gone that year anyway because it was incredible. Today was incredible. Being around hundreds of other people that are so full of life and happiness just had a way of refreshing her. As if she was taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in months. Piper needed this.

Even the music was breathtaking. The musical performance on the pier had been done by Cher. _Cher_. There were hundreds upon hundreds of people there, ranging from the seasoned elderly to the doe-eyed finally-of-legal-drinking-age youngsters. Piper thought she might have even seen Whoopie Goldberg there, but she wasn't entirely sure. The group she had been dancing with had begun to migrate in a different direction so she wasn't able to see the woman's face clearly. Staying with the little group had been worth it though. They had thrown themselves around to the rhythm of the music for hours on end. When the dance officially ended at ten they were covered in sweat and still riding the high of their endorphins.

Practically skipping down the sidewalk, Piper was evidently still feeling a euphoric sense of freedom. It didn't even bother her that all the taxis' were busy carting home drunk and incapacitated college kids. It was a pleasantly warm night out and the walk only added to her carefree mood. Her life, in this moment, was perfect. She had gotten a letter from Alex the day before, gotten the afternoon off work, shopped for Pride trinkets, and danced to her heart's content along the pier. Now she could go home, take a steaming shower and curl up in her boyfriend's warm arms.

As she rounded the corner near Wells Fargo Bank Piper thought, _This is life. This is what living really is_. She hadn't felt this way since her post-college travel days with a specific brunette, whom which she was now forming a friendship with. That in itself was a miracle. Piper smiled to herself, completely caught up in her head. This was unequivocally the happiest she had been in years.

Dragging Piper from her thoughts, a slight pressure against the small of her back instantly turned the hair on the back of her neck on end. Something hard pressed up against her spine, causing a chill to tear through her body. Piper instinctively made to run but a rough hand clamped on her forearm. The heady smell of alcohol assaulted her nose as hot breath collided with her cheek. Dread saturated her every thought and she still had half a mind to politely ask to be released. Half a mind. The other half went into full-blown panic mode as the words "if you scream, I'll kill you" finally sunk into her adrenalin saturated brain.

* * *

Author's Note: So I was thinking about ending the story here. Not a bad spot, right?


End file.
